Delirium
by stratocaster2714
Summary: Taylor is your average career. Arrogant. Cocky. She made her best friend promise not to volunteer, but somehow he gets into the Games. But she's a trained killer. Glory comes first. This year, she's certain of it: District Four will have yet another Victor. And it won't be James. Welcome to the 73rd Annual Hunger Games.


I woke up on the morning of the Reaping. You're probably expecting me to go on, and on, and on about how I had an awesome sleep, I was so excited, how I was going to fight off the other volunteers at the Reaping. All of which were true. But what woke me up was the sound of metal whistling through the air.

I wandered downstairs to find exactly what I thought I would:

A shredded Training dummy, a knife, my Dad's old sword, and my bow and arrows. A pair of hands clapped over my eyes.

"Guess who?" a voice shouted.

I decided to play along.

"Oh, I don't know, but it surely isn't James Walsh!" He took his hands off my face and when I turned around, he was grinning. "Surely it isn't Taylor Beswick!" he mimics.

James is my best friend. I met him on the Trawler where I work, but he got moved to being a Deckhand. I still saw him often enough in training though, and soon enough, we were friends. His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Still volunteering, Tay?"

The question catches me off guard. "Of course I am!" I snap.

"Well, good for you. I'm not." I don't have to ask why. One victor is allowed. Two are not. Meaning that if it should come down to the two of us, one would have to die.

"Go back to your house, James" I sigh. I'm not being mean. He really needs to go home. We have about an hour to get ready for the Reaping. After he's gone, I rummage through my cupboard. I end up finding an electric blue dress, with a sort of lacy trim. I slip it on and put my blonde hair into a fishtail braid. There. All done. Just in time, might I add as the Reaping whistle goes off right after I'm done. I grab my shark tooth necklace and a knife, then pull some black sandles on and leave.

When I arrive at the Reaping, I go straight to the section for fifteen year old girls. I pull on my necklace and look around for James. There he is, in the section for fifteen year old boys. I smirk at him and then turn to face the stage. Our mayor, Mason Odair reads the long, boring Treaty of Treason. Also known as the Cure for Insomnia. He then calls out the list of previous victors, which is also boring. I notice that his son Finnick isn't wearing a shirt. It makes all the girls go crazy, but I could care less.

Finally, Mr. Odair introduces our air headed escort: Angelika Stone.

She bids everyone a "Happy Hunger Games", and then says "Ladies First!"

She dips her hand into the bowl. You could hear a pin drop in the crowd. She snatches a slip from the bottom, carefully unfolds it, and before you can even hear who the would be tribute is, I'm screaming. The words?

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

Chapter Two.

Right after I say it, about twenty other girls do as well. One of them goes to mount the stage, and I throw my knife at her. She shrieks and it gets her square in the back. She falls to the ground and the Peacekeepers do nothing. It's not surprising. The Reaping hardly ever goes as smoothly as it does in the outline districts, where there are little to no volunteers. Everyone else is stunned. I smirk as I walk over, pick up the body of the girl and drag it up the stairs with me. Now everyone will remember me.

Angelika smiles at me with her gold painted lips.

"And what might your name be?" I beam at the cameras. "Taylor Beswick."

"What's this you've got with you?"

"Proof."

"Of what?"

"That no one stands in my way." I get a massive round of applause as Angelika is screaming "Yes! Yes! Our female tribute from District Four! Taylor Beswick!"

And now... For the boys.

She calls out a name. That name is James Walsh. Huh. Someone will probably volunteer for him. But the next thing I know is that he's shouting.

" I reject all volunteers!"

I'm shocked. He said that he wasn't volunteering. But whether it was rigged, or sheer dumb luck I'll never know. However, he did stay true to his word by not volunteering.

And he's exceptional with a machete. And from watching One, Two, and Three's Reapings, unless the other districts have something hidden up their sleeves, the Victor will be one of us. I'm sorry, James. But glory comes first.

Chapter Three.

I'm in the justice building now, waiting for people to say goodbye. And they do. First my family, then my friends, my maths teacher... My last visit is from the family of the girl I killed. Her father raises his hand as though he is about to strike me, but I simply call for the Peacekeepers.

We go to the train station. When we arrive, I get another massive cheer. Yes. Their cheers will not be wasted. I'm going to come back.

When we step on the train, I am introduced to Finnick Odair. He will be my mentor, as many of the female victors from Four are not suitable.

"So." He grins. "You threw a knife." I groan. "No shåt, Sherlock."

"Hmm. Not bad. I'm going to assume that you trained as a Career?"

For the first time this morning, I laugh. "You got it."

He nods. "Your weapon?" I stop and think for a moment. "Archery. And throwing knives."

He points to the body of my victim. "That needs to go. Now." Sighing, I open the window and toss it out into District Three. The rest of our train trip flashes past. When we arrive at the Capitol, I discover that I now have fans. These people are so surgically altered it's disturbing, but who knows? One of them might be rich.

We step off the train. I try my best not to get mobbed, but then I look over at Finnick, who has double the amount of people crowding around him, and I'm thankful. I'm taken to the Prep Centre, where they wax the hair off my underarms, legs, and arms. They cut my long hair so it's just past my shoulders, then dye it black for "camouflage purposes".

When I'm done, they leave to go get my stylist. I get up and look in the mirror, shaking my now choppy black hair. It'll take some getting used to, but the bleach blonde I used to have practically glows in the dark, so I suppose it's for the better.

My stylist enters the room. She says her name is Hanna, and that she's designed my costume for tonight.

"Of course, it's absolutely horrendous how you tributes from Four always get outshined by One, Two, and Three. Not anymore. This year, you and James will steal the show! Now, let's have dinner."

When I'm done eating the best food I've ever tasted, Hanna shows me what I'll be wearing.

Watch out, tributes. I'm going to steal the show and kill you ALL.


End file.
